White Flag
by la lisboa
Summary: When Lisbon comes down with a bad case of the flu, it's up to Jane to make her feel better. Threeshot, final chapter up, in which Jane manages to steal a kiss, of sorts.
1. Resignation

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the brilliance that is The Mentalist.

**A/N:** My first Mentalist fanfic. Hope you enjoy! A million thanks to my star beta Melissa for her awesome work.

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><p>The incessant ringing of her cell phone jarred her from a fitful sleep. Lisbon groaned as she rolled over and rummaged around the table for the device, buried beneath a mountain of Kleenex. It stopped ringing and she almost relaxed and drew back, but then it began again. Finally she located the phone and flipped it open without looking at the caller ID.<p>

"Lisbon," she croaked.

"Open the door."

"Jane?"

"Yes, it's me," he said. "May I come in?"

She coughed. "No. Go away."

"Look, I know you're not up to receiving guests, but that's why I didn't send Rigsby. Cho's leading the team in your absence, and Van Pelt would be much too eager to play nurse. So you get me."

"Go away," she repeated. She pulled herself into a sitting position, looking around the mess that used to be her living room. There was no way she would allow anyone, let alone Jane, to see her and her apartment in such a state. "Please," she added weakly, in a last ditch effort to make him leave.

"Now, Lisbon, don't be like that," Jane said. "Aha!" There was a clicking sound. "Your lock is really easy to pick, you know. Might want to get that changed."

She jumped up quickly – too quickly. Lisbon immediately felt the room start to spin and she dropped her hands to the side of the couch, trying to regain her bearings. When she looked up a minute later, she saw Jane standing in her doorway, watching her closely.

He grinned. "Hi."

"What are you doing here?" she asked blankly. "Get the hell out of my apartment."

"Oh, Lisbon," Jane simpered, stepping across the threshold. "Today you're all bark and no bite. Next time say it like you _mean_ it."

"You better believe that I mean it," she muttered angrily. "And you could at least close the door."

Jane kicked the door shut behind him. "Let's start over. Good afternoon, Lisbon. How are you?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Don't try me, Jane."

"No, I won't," he agreed. "I can see you're too sick to have that adequate state of mind required to deal with such persistent fake-psychics such as myself."

Lisbon blinked. "What?"

"What?" he repeated innocently.

She sighed. "Never mind. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, nothing really. Just taking a break. The team's got a case; it'll keep them busy for awhile." He made his way into her living room and she could practically see his smile widening cheekily when his eyes landed her makeshift bed on the couch.

"Shouldn't you be helping them?"

He turned. "They'll be fine. It's a straightforward case: wife murders husband because he did something immoral – cheating, stealing, something like that. They'll figure out. Besides, I thought someone should stop by with chicken soup. I've heard that's what people feed to the sick."

"You didn't bring anything with you," she pointed out.

He looked down at his hands. "Ah, you're right. Must have forgotten to pick that up on the way. Terribly sorry, Lisbon."

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the onslaught of a pounding headache. She could feel the blood rushing to her brain and her sinuses were about to explode.

"I'm not going away, you know."

Her eyes flew open. Jane was now standing right in front of her, still grinning. "Jane," she said with patience she did not feel, "if you don't leave right now, I swear I will dig my gun out from this trash pile and shoot you myself."

He considered her a moment, then said, "Wow, you look terrible."

"Thanks," she snapped, though she knew it was true. Her ponytail had mostly fallen out so her dark hair hunk lank around her face and last she had checked, she had dark circles under her eyes that she suspected were still there. Her entire face felt puffy and she could practically feel her eyes glazing over.

Jane stepped forward and pressed his hand to her forehead. She drew a sharp breath at the shock of how cold his fingers were. After a moment he pulled back. "Aw, Lisbon. You're really sick, aren't you?"

She sighed, closing her eyes again, resigning herself to the fact she couldn't make him leave. "And what was your first clue?"

"What was your last temperature?"

"Uh…I don't know." She rubbed her eyes as she opened them. "100-something."

"I'd guess 102 right now," he said. His back was to her and he was rummaging through the Kleenexes on the table. "Here." He turned back around and she saw the thermometer in his hand. "Open wide, here comes the train!"

"Jane-" She tried to protest, but as soon as she opened her mouth, he stuck the thermometer inside. She glared at him indignantly as she waited for the reading.

"102.1," he announced after it beeped thirty seconds later. "You should probably sit down. Do you have any acetaminophen?"

Lisbon gestured vaguely at the Kleenex-covered table as she sank to the couch, her head in her hands. The headache was getting worse and her entire body ached.

"It's just the flu, Lisbon," Jane said gently, sitting next to her and placing his hand on her shoulder. Normally she would have found both his tone and gesture patronizing, but she was too exhausted to care. "There's no need to worry. You'll be better in no time." He squeezed her shoulder and then moved his hand. "Come on," he said. "You should take these."

She looked up and saw he was holding the pill bottle in his hand. "You know these are going to make me sleep."

Jane stood up. "Don't worry about that. I'll get you something to drink. You should lie down."

"You are _not_ staying here once I'm asleep," she replied, annoyed.

He just smiled as she swung her legs over the couch. The familiar feeling of being unnaturally cold returned and she knew the chills and shaking wouldn't be far behind. She reached down for one of the blankets and pulled it to her chest. It did nothing to alleviate the cold.

"And I'll bring you another blanket," he added. He had been watching carefully. She couldn't help but be slightly embarrassed by Jane's persistent attention. He left without asking where he might find blankets, but he returned less than a minute later carrying what looked like her entire supply of extra bedding, along with a glass of water. He dropped the pile on the floor next to the couch, set the water on the table, and then picked up the top blanket, an afghan.

"Oh – no," she protested when he began to lay the blanket over her. Despite her illness, it would be a cold day in hell before she let Jane dote on her. Lisbon reached for the blanket. "_I'll_ do that."

He smiled and dropped the afghan. "Mind if I make tea?" He was already halfway to the kitchen before he added, "I'll make you some, too."

"Yeah, sure," she muttered, rearranging the blankets. "Whatever." Lisbon opened the pill bottle and took two of the tablets. Then she lay back, picking up a second blanket and throwing it over herself. She pulled out a pillow from under her back, trying to get comfortable.

"Here," she heard a few minutes later. She felt the shift of weight on the couch as Jane sat down and the gentle thud of the mug being set on the table. "I didn't put anything in it, but I brought the sugar cubes over."

"Which tea bags did you use?" she asked, as she struggled to pull herself back up. Jane placed one of the blankets around her shoulders before she could stop him. "Thanks," she conceded. Lisbon wrapped her hands around the warm mug and inhaled the rising steam, trying to catch the scent. "Chamomile?"

He shrugged. "It seemed appropriate. It's supposed to be soothing."

"If you say so," she said, taking a tentative sip. It seemed tasteless, but she didn't feel like adding sugar. She sniffled, feeling her nose start to run again. "Damn it."

"Here," he said, passing over the Kleenex box and taking the mug from her hands. "Let it all out," he advised as she blew her nose.

"Ugh," she groaned, wiping her nose. "I hate being sick."

"I know," he said simply. He placed his hand over hers and looked at her concernedly. "You're shivering."

"I know," she mimicked, frustrated by the weakness of her own body. She tried to take another sip of tea, but her hands were shaking too badly to hold the mug. "Damn it," she repeated.

"Come here," he offered gently, setting down his own mug. She threw him a skeptical look. "You need more than the blankets. You need body heat."

"Don't touch me!" she snapped.

"Lisbon…" he drawled, ignoring her and moving closer to her on the couch. "Your body is trying to tell you what you need. Just let me help."

"Jane, I swear if you-"

"Yes, yes, I know about the gun. Ignore that impulse for now. Just give in…you know you want to…"

She sighed but didn't move away. "You're trying to hypnotize me, aren't you?"

"Of _course_ not," he assured her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and drew her in to his body. She could feel the heat radiating from his chest. "Of course not. Go to sleep now, Lisbon. Give into the drugs. It's okay. I'll be here when you wake up."

She shot him a look. "You better not be."

"No, of course not," he agreed. "Just go to sleep, Lisbon. Sleep…sleep…"

"You _are_ hypnotizing me, aren't you?" she muttered, pulling the blanket closer around her body. She felt Jane's arm tighten around her, enveloping her in a warm cocoon. She sighed, feeling the drugs already taking effect as the tension slowly receded from her body.

"That depends." His smile widened to a grin when he saw her eyes had finally closed. "Did it work?"

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><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading. Please review!


	2. Surrender

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognize!

**A/N:** I normally don't continue with stories if I decide they're oneshots, but the great feedback and inspiration made me change my mind. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter, I sincerely appreciate it.

Much thanks to my brainy beta Melizzle.

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><p>The first thing she noticed was that the headache was gone, which was a welcome relief. She slowly opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. She was staring up at her living room ceiling and there was a pile of blankets on top of her. Tentatively, Lisbon pushed herself up into a sitting position. Although her headache was gone, her entire body still felt weak.<p>

She flipped open her phone and found she had no missed calls, but two text messages, both from Cho. The first reported their progress on the case, and the second admitted their leads had led nowhere, but told her not to worry. He'd added, probably at Van Pelt's request, a perfunctory "Feel better soon" at the end. She checked the time as she snapped the phone shut and did some quick calculations. She'd been asleep for almost four hours.

"Ah, you're awake."

Lisbon started, a small cry of surprise escaping her lips. "Jane," she gasped, her heart still racing. "Don't _do_ that."

"Sorry," he said insincerely. Without invitation, he pressed his hand against her forehead. "Fever's still not broken, I see."

"Thanks, Doctor," she replied sarcastically. Lisbon turned to the table, prepared to dig through the Kleenex to find the thermometer, but was stunned to find it was neat and orderly. Her thermometer was lying next to her gun and a fresh box of Kleenex. Comprehension dawned on her, and she turned back to Jane slowly, her body rigid with a mixture of embarrassment and fury.

"You stayed here?"

He shrugged. "I found things to do."

"That's not the point," she countered. "I told you I didn't want you to stay here while I was asleep."

"Would you feel better if I told you I was waiting in my car the whole time?"

"No," she answered. A beat – "Were you?"

He grinned. "You're cute when you snore."

"Jane," she groaned, horrified. Her fingers inched toward her gun. "Get out. I haven't forgotten my threat."

"Neither have I," Jane replied easily. "That's why I took the bullets out."

"You'll be the death of me."

"No, I believe it's you who's trying to cause the death of _me_."

Lisbon fell back on the couch and threw the topmost blanket over her face. "Go away!" she called, her voice muffled. Nothing happened immediately, though she suspected he was still standing next to her couch. The headache that had so mercifully gone away was now coming back, though she suspected it had more to do with Jane than the flu. "Go away!" she called again, though it was more of a question this time. She wouldn't put it past him to still be standing there, waiting for her to concede first. She listened intently, though didn't hear any signs of movement, either toward the door or otherwise. Just when she was about to call out again, the blanket was suddenly thrown back from her face.

"Wha—hmph!"

Her words were cut off by the thermometer being forced under her tongue. She closed her eyes to avoid looking at Jane's self-satisfied smirk. When the thermometer finally beeped, she reached up to grab it, but Jane beat her to it.

"101.9," he announced. "Those drugs didn't have any effect at all."

"They made the headache go away," she pointed out. "Although I'm starting to think it had less to do with the drugs and more to do with your absence."

"Sleep is a good thing," he said approvingly. She rolled her eyes and tried to sit up again, but her body didn't want to cooperate. She suddenly felt ten times more exhausted than when she first woke up, as if the news that her fever hadn't changed eliminated some sort of placebo effect she'd felt in the aftermath of her nap. She finally managed to sit up and pull one of the blankets around her shoulders protectively. She glanced at Jane, waiting for him to comment, but he didn't seem to be paying attention.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, as if he'd just realized she was there.

"What? Uh – no, not really," she admitted.

"Too bad." Jane began walking toward the kitchen. "I made soup."

"You _what_?" Wrapping the blanket more securely around her shoulders, Lisbon pushed herself up from the couch. For a moment, the room spun and she feared she'd have to sit back down, but then everything righted itself. She blinked a few times to clear her head, and then followed Jane into the kitchen.

"You what?" she repeated as she entered. Jane was standing at the stove range, his back to her.

"I made soup," he announced, turning around. Her mouth dropped open. With the wooden spoon in hand, Jane looked positively domestic.

"You cook?"

"I do."

"Really?" Lisbon walked up to the pot and peered inside. It was the most unpromising soup she'd ever seen. She looked up at Jane. "You know this is just water and celery, right?"

"So it's not done yet." Jane shrugged. "You don't have much in the way of vegetables."

"You could have gone to the store," she pointed out, choosing not to think about the fact Jane had been rummaging through her kitchen while she'd been asleep. "I think my sleeping self could have managed on my own."

"Maybe."

"No, not maybe," she argued. "I'm sick, not mentally ill."

He brushed away her anger with a careless hand. "Never mind that. Here, want to taste it?"

"No." She even took a step back from him. "I know what water tastes like, thanks."

"You're sick. You won't know the difference. Besides, it's warm. It'll help with those chills."

Lisbon shook her head. "If I want warm liquid, I'll drink tea."

"So you don't want any?" Jane almost looked disappointed.

"I appreciate you trying to…cook. But I'm really not hungry." She grabbed the counter as another wave of dizziness washed over her. It felt like a cold egg had just been broken over her head.

"You okay?" he asked concernedly.

"Yes," Lisbon muttered. She held out her other hand to keep him back, though she knew it was a pointless gesture. Sure enough, Jane came over to her anyway. He placed his finger under her chin and tilted her head up so she was looking right at him. Only then did she realize her face and hair were practically drenched in sweat.

"Your fever's breaking," he murmured.

"Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?" Lisbon gasped as another cold wave broke over her. She felt the strangest combination of being hot and cold at the same time.

"In theory, yes," Jane answered. "It's just uncomfortable. Haven't you been sick before?"

"Can't remember," Lisbon said through gritted teeth. "I don't think it was this bad."

"Here," he said, reaching out for her hand. "Come on," he added impatiently, seeing her vacillating.

She hesitated a moment longer, but then took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the kitchen table and force her into a chair. When he released her hand, she realized that, too, was cold and clammy. She wanted to pull the blanket closer to her body, but it was only comfortable for a few minutes before she became overly hot again.

"I brought another blanket," Jane said, showing it to her. "Do you want it?"

"No," she managed, resting her head on the table."Too hot."

"Come here," he suggested.

"Seriously?"

"It worked last time."

"When I was _cold_."

"Yes, well, it'll help regulate your body temperature."

Lisbon lifted her head and looked at him accusingly. "You're making that up."

"Maybe." His eyes twinkled.

"Give me that," she demanded, gesturing to the blanket. He offered it to her. Instead of unfolding it, Lisbon rolled it into a ball and placed it under her head. She closed her eyes. "Much better."

"You'll regret that when you're cold later," Jane said somewhere next to her. She sensed him sitting beside her and felt his hand on her back a moment later.

"That's what you're for," she muttered.

She didn't see his smile, but imagined it when he whispered, "I heard that."

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><p><strong>AN:** There will be one more chapter after this. Put the story on alert so you'll be the first to know when I post it! In the meantime, please review.


	3. Acceptance

**Disclaimer: **Nothing of the brilliance you recognize is mine.

**A/N:** Here we go, final chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed last time for their words of encouragement.

Thanks to Melissa, fabulous as always.

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><p>When Lisbon woke again, the sun had long since set. She pushed her chair back from the table and sat up, stretching the cramped muscles in her back. She waited for the room to spin, but was pleasantly surprised to find that everything remained in place. Judging from the darkness that seemed to permeate every room, Jane was long gone. She let out a sigh of relief.<p>

Not having her thermometer near her, she brought her hand to her forehead and felt for a fever. Her skin was clammy and covered in sweat, but mercifully cool. She felt like her body temperature actually resembled that of a normal human being for the first time in days.

As she stood, her hand brushed against a piece of paper on the table. She picked it up and then fumbled for the kitchen light switch. Light flooded the room, and she shielded her eyes from the sudden brightness. When she recovered, she read, in Jane's neat and precise handwriting:

_Thought I'd let you sleep. See you later._

She exhaled deeply, glad that he had finally left. His unrelenting attention had been grating on her nerves, and now that she didn't have a pounding headache, she could fully appreciate just how intimate the attention had been. Even thinking about it made her uncomfortable, and she resolved to make him pay for it later.

Lisbon crumpled the note in her hand and threw it in the garbage can on her way out of the kitchen. As she padded into the living room, she noticed that the lights were off. She couldn't remember if they had been turned on, and wondered if this meant Jane had been considerate enough to shut them off when he left. She pondered this as she walked over to turn the light back on.

"Miss me?"

Lisbon jumped. The light had suddenly snapped on, seemingly of its own accord, although now she could see that Jane was standing next to the light switch, a wicked grin plastered on his face.

"What – you – but – you-"

"Whenever you feel like speaking English," Jane said as he nonchalantly settled himself onto the couch.

Lisbon swallowed and managed, "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"Feeling better yet?"

"I thought I was," Lisbon muttered as she moved toward the table where the thermometer had been. Jane handed it to her as she approached. "Thanks," she said grudgingly.

"Can I guess?" Jane asked with entirely too much excitement in his voice.

She threw him the sharpest look she could manage. "I'd rather you didn't." She brought the thermometer to her lips, but before she put it under her tongue, she turned to Jane and said, "I thought you were leaving."

Jane shrugged. "Did I say that?"

"Well, your note seemed to imply-"

"It implied nothing."

Lisbon sighed. "Do I even want to know what you did while I was asleep this time?"

"I organized your sock drawer."

Lisbon's mouth dropped open in horror. "You did _what_?"

"Organized your sock drawer," he repeated, smirking.

"But my – there are things other than socks in there!"

"Not anymore," Jane said happily. "I moved them one drawer to the left. That way all your lingerie can be in one place."

"Jane," she groaned, sinking down onto the couch, her face in her hands. She could feel the blush creeping up her neck, making her feel almost feverish again. She sincerely hoped Jane hadn't found her spare gun in the – she shuddered – _lingerie _drawer and removed the bullets from that one, too.

She jumped at the touch of his cool hand on her neck. "Sorry," Jane apologized insincerely. "You're feeling warm again. Did that fever not break after all?"

"No, I think it did," Lisbon muttered. "But I'm suffering from a terrible case of Jane-itis."

"Yes, that does sound bad," Jane conceded. He considered her for a moment and then said, "I'll make us some tea. That way you can have some, ah, privacy."

"How considerate of you," Lisbon grumbled. She swung her legs over the couch and rearranged the blankets across her lap. She picked up her cell phone and read through the text messages while she waited for the thermometer to beep. There was another message from Cho, informing her there had been, once again, no breaks in the case, but that the team was going home for the night. The message also wondered where Jane was.

_Right here,_ Lisbon thought, annoyed. If Jane had figured out this case so easily, couldn't he at least have told the team who the murderer was _before _taking the day off to play nurse?

The thermometer beeped and Lisbon extracted it from her mouth for what she sincerely hoped was the last time. 99.4. "At least that's better," she mumbled as she reached for the bottle of aspirin that was still on the table. She opened the bottle and dumped several pills into her hand.

"Now, now," Jane admonished from somewhere behind her. "You're not thinking of offing yourself, are you?"

"I was going to pour them back," Lisbon defended. "I was only trying to get two or three. You know how these bottles work. You want two, you either get one or seven. You can never get the right number when you want it."

Jane stared, and Lisbon realized she was rambling. "Never mind," she muttered. She sat back up and accepted the mug of tea from him. Then she noticed that he had only made one cup. "Are you not staying?" she asked.

"Oh, no," Jane said, with a wave of his hand. "I think I've caused you enough trouble today. Just wanted to make sure you'd be all settled for the night."

"Oh…okay."

"Why, Lisbon," Jane said, "you sound disappointed!"

"Not disappointed," she replied. "Just shocked that you finally got the hint."

"Oh, no, I got the hint," Jane assured her. "I just didn't have anything better to do today."

"Didn't you?" Lisbon asked. "Cho said the team never did solve the case."

Jane shrugged. "I'll be there tomorrow."

"You better be."

Jane smiled and then said, "You better be there, too."

"Come on," Lisbon said, standing. "I'll walk you out."

She watched as Jane gathered his things and put on his coat. She did not want to give him any excuse to come back to her apartment tonight. "Keys?" she asked, when Jane looked about ready to leave.

He pulled them out of his pocket and shook them. "Right here. Come on, Lisbon, you know me better than that. Besides, I don't need a silly lie about forgotten keys to get into your apartment."

"Don't remind me," she warned him.

He grinned and then suddenly pulled her into a hug. Lisbon squirmed, but quickly realized that he had pinned her arms to her sides. "Jane!" she protested, her face pressing into the thick wool of his jacket. "Let me go!"

"Just some extra body heat for the road," he said.

"I don't need any," Lisbon said.

"I just want to be sure."

Lisbon sighed. "My fever's gone, okay? The thermometer said so."

"I'll just check for myself if you don't mind."

"How do you-" Lisbon gasped as she felt Jane's lips on her forehead. She understood now why he had deliberately pinned down her arms. She could feel her body temperature rising and hoped it burned his lips right off her face.

Jane pulled back, a self-satisfied smirk lingering on his face. "99.4. Am I right?"

"How did you-"

Jane only grinned. "Good night, Lisbon."

She made sure to dead-bolt the door as soon as he was out of sight.

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><p><strong>AN:** The end! This time for real...but never fear, you can tell me what you thought in a review! Also, if you are interested, I have written a Jisbon-ish post-ep for last Thursday's episode that will be posted soon and do plan on writing more Jisbon stuff in future, so if you want to read more from me, feel free to put me on alert.


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